


God Never Created Us as Equals

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s11e22 We Happy Few, Love Triangles, M/M, Manipulative Lucifer (Supernatural), Missions Gone Wrong, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Is So Done, Season/Series 11, Sexual Content, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, Vessel Trauma, past dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: This is the first and only time the Winchesters are protected by God against Lucifer, and Sam won’t waste the opportunity to give his tormentor a piece of his mind.  It doesn’t matter if he’s wearing Cas, Sam knows Lucifer’s grace inside and out—all he can see is the archangel of his nightmares.Except Samwasn’tprepared for the retaliation or the newest trap he tumbled into headfirst.  This game Lucifer's playing...it's dangerous, and it could wreck more people than just him.  Sam fucked up so bad.





	God Never Created Us as Equals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Samifer
> 
> ALL the love and thanks and kisses to [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/), who's making my race to the finish line possible with her speedy-beta reading!
> 
>  **Ann's Note:** Trigger warning here, ladies and gentleman! This is the first fic that I've written that actually involves non-con themes. While it's not full-on, violent and penetrative intercourse, it's still a sexual act performed without consent. There are references to other non-con acts turned dub-con in the fic also. So! That being said _approach with caution_ , heed the tags and this warning, my dears! 
> 
> It's a short, easy read, we've got some snarky, possessive Luci and surprise!Sastiel, but if it's going to do more harm than good for anyone who's not about the subject matter, skip away!

Everything had been so surreal since the moment Chuck had come down from the Heavens (or rather moved from his ‘ramshackle house’) to the Winchesters and revealed himself as God.  Of course, Sam was the one who took it as a good thing—a great thing!—since a part of him had always believed in a higher power, but, Dean… no.  His brother had a completely different, terrible reaction.

Sam could tell from the pancakes and bacon the next morning that Chuck was trying to mend bridges and the quickest way to win Dean’s favor was through his stomach, so he was on the right course…  There was also the fact that his brother was trying not to rock the boat.  After he’d gone after Chuck, after all the accusations and helplessness, Dean remembered the former author wasn’t simply the annoying 'prophet' they knew.  Shit, Chuck wasn’t a mere a thorn in their side writing the Winchester Gospel anymore.

No, this was _God_.

As the time passed, and Lucifer continued to refuse to hear Chuck out—Sam realized something.  Something fucking _amazing_.

The moment the Devil had seen Sam and Dean, he’d tried to obliterate them with a snap of his fingers.  Chuck had safeguarded them, which pissed Lucifer off even more.  That’s when Sam realized that this was the first time he could approach the asshole without repercussions, without fearing for his life, without the power of an archangel behind him.

Lucifer had always had somewhat of a soft-spot for Sam, a sick and twisted soft spot, so once he saw that Dean was camped out watching TV nearly dozing off, he walked back towards the hall.  He didn’t see it, but Chuck watched Sam head to the rooms with concern.

The loud music was still playing and when Sam pounded his fist on the door, he hoped that the “It’s just me!” was heard, because he didn’t want to shout it over again and draw the others’ attention.  No, Dean would stop him instantly and Chuck… well, Sam had no idea what he’d do.  Who knew God would be their loose cannon?

The door cracked open and Lucifer leaned casually against the door frame.  “Oh.  Did they send you to lure me out into the open?  Sorry, no dice—”

Sam was quick, and grabbed the door before Lucifer could shut it.  His attitude was cold, determined, and his words curt: “They don’t know I’m here.”

Lucifer was curious, and while Sam had been under Cas’ scrutiny before, it usually involved a tilted head and squinting eyes.  Lucifer, while wearing Cas, was bright, wild and cocky, biting his lip and waving Sam in.  Even though Sam hadn’t asked for entry, they both knew damn well that’s why he was there.

There was nothing but swagger in his step as the archangel turned off the rebellious rock music and turned around to see Sam, arms crossed, seated at the table.

“Now, why would Sammy come over for a visit without permission from big brother?” he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Rather bold, don’t you think?”

“You can’t hurt me.  We’re equals, Lucifer.  And you better decide to make up with your Father, or else I’ll gut you,” Sam growled. “You’re lucky you’re even here at the bunker.  You’re lucky I’m even dealing with seeing your face.  After everything you’ve done to me, after the Cage and—” he choked on his words, as he looked over at Lucifer, who was enthralled and sitting on the edge of the table, looming above him.

“Oh, please, continue!  This is _fascinating_!  Truly!”

“You never fucking leave!  I hallucinated you, you used me through the cracks in the Cage, all while saying you’d _never_ lie to me, and you used my best friend!”  Sam abruptly stood up, steadying the back of the chair so he wouldn’t knock it over.  “When will you stop?!  When is enough really enough?!  God is back!  He wants you!  Isn’t that all you ever wanted?!”

“You’ve got it all wrong.” Lucifer’s eyes bore into him, like they were passing through flesh and bone into his soul.  “Once Daddy left?  Tossed me downstairs?  I was done.  I knew I was abandoned.  So I continued to wait patiently for the Boy King of legend who would release me from my Cage.  And that was _you_ ,” he stepped in, Sam frozen in place.  “You were my faith, my savior, my end game.   _Not_ Pops.”

When Lucifer cupped his cheek, Sam recoiled like fire had burnt him, but the Devil was ice-cold.  Just as he had remembered him.

“You know damn well that was a mistake!”

“Was it?” Lucifer continued closing in on him, this time grabbing a handful of Sam’s hair, forcing his attention.  “I’ve always wanted you.  Wanted us to be one.  This vessel?  _You_ were made _for me._  When you said yes, didn’t it feel so right?  Like you’d been born for it?”  He stunned Sam once more, yanking his head to the side and exposing his neck—just enough for Lucifer’s mouth to close in around the unblemished skin and suck.  “Well, that was until we dove into the pit.  You were a very, _very_ naughty boy.”

Sam began to fight against him, shove him away, but even though Lucifer couldn’t kill him, it appeared he still had his angelic strength.  And he was taunting Sam!  Just like he did in his brain when he got out of the pit!  This was a fucking _horrible_ idea, and he was in over his head—

“Y-you knew we’d end up in the Cage!” Sam barked as he struggled.  “You were already in my head, you knew how strong I was!  You didn’t beat me down, you just let me…be.”

“I gave you _everything_!”  Lucifer raged, “I gave you revenge, I gave you answers, clarity, I gave you promises I intended to _keep_ about the safety of your idiotic family!”  He tried to use a pulse of grace for… something that never manifested.  So instead, Lucifer cursed under his breath, grumbling, “Guess we’ll do this the old fashioned way.”

The ‘old fashioned way’ happened to be manhandling Sam, who was kicking and grappling to be free, over to the bed.  Hell, it was _Sam’s_ bed but he wanted nothing to do with it!  And now everything was fucked—Lucifer, wearing Cas’ face, was hovering over him, hands roaming freely with a manic grin spreading wide.  When Lucifer’s hand brushed across Sam’s crotch and he tsk’d Sam, clearly disappointed at him being soft, the hunter started panicking.

“Stop!  You’ve—”  He shook his head violently, “You _can’t_ _—!_ ”

“But I have.  Over and over again in the Cage.  I want to see if it’s different, here on Earth.”  He leaned down, tongue tracing the shell of Sam’s ear as his hands unzipped the front of Sam’s pants.  “You can give in.  You stopped fighting down there in Hell, you know.  So why bother to fight now?  I won’t even fuck you, kid.  Just want to hear you moan my name again.”  Lucifer was so casual, a coaxing touch, knowing exactly how to make Sam’s dick hard and he fucking hated it!

“No!  I don’t want it, I don’t—” Sam gasped as Lucifer pulled him free, out of the jeans and boxers, his cool touch wet as it glided up and down his erection.

Dammit!  His body had turned against him and he hated it!  He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t be held accountable for this.  Sam had not expected to come into the room and Lucifer’s response be a fucking hand job!  Sam had wanted to say his piece, maybe piss off the Devil, get everything off his chest, and then urge a reconciliation with God.

Not writhe and buck against the practiced and perfected touch.  What was worse was that the hand on his cock was Castiel’s, and the impish smile was shamelessly on the _seraph’s_ face.  Yet the touch, the grace, the asshole’s current move, oh, it was all Lucifer.  All that made it tangled, every part of it _should_ have been a bucket of cold water, but instead Sam could feel the fire inside his veins burn brighter.

Maybe it was because of the time in the cage.  Or, rewinding, the time Lucifer had spent inside his body, inside his head when Sam was his vessel and knew every detail about his life and, more than likely…other things.  The things that made him tick.  Like _this_.

“C’mon, Sammy.  Let bygones be bygones.  We’re supposed to be on the same team, remember?” Lucifer taunted as he ground his hips against Sam’s thigh.  “Just let go of that iron grip.  It’s easy.  I’ll be good, I _promise_.  Just think about the restraint I’m showing!  You know me just as well as I know you...” he purred those words out.

“Fuck… off…” Sam fought to catch his breath and fight in someway, because,  _goddammit_ —he was close!  He hated himself for it!

“Aw, you don’t mean that.”  With a pout, Lucifer looked thoughtful.  Then he smirked broadly with a wicked idea.  “Or… maybe you _do_ want me to fuck off?  I guess we’ll see.”

“What?!” Sam didn’t understand, he didn’t know if he _wanted_ to understand, but there was a momentary fumble in Lucifer’s steady rhythm, his tight grip around his cock and everything changed.  He realized with a stunned gasp, “ _Cas_?!”

The angel didn’t stop, even though his wild eyes scanned the room—Castiel didn’t let up, in fact, he fuckin’ _sped up_ and Sam dissolved into whimpers and whines, arching off the bed into his touch.

“Lucifer, he won’t let you go until you—” Cas couldn’t finish the sentence, “I apologize, he’s playing with you.  He’s made me watch the entire thing.  He rarely torments me, but when it comes to you and Dean, I—” he swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “He doesn’t miss a beat.  He allows me to see you, possibly to keep me in line.  I never wanted you to be put in this position, so please, Sam...” his eyes were imploring, and to be honest, Sam wasn’t sure what to think.

Still, it was slightly easier, seeing concern and care rather than Lucifer’s smug face and dirty words.  Cas was here, he could help, and Sam was still _so close_ —and...he suddenly felt safe.  He stumbled out, “Thank you,” and squeezed his eyes shut, then tossed his head back, a long moan pulled from his chest.

Sam could hear Cas’ own muffled sounds of pleasure, but he’d shifted away from where Lucifer was relentlessly rutting against Sam’s thigh—another small act of God—because the angel ( _their_ angel) had a single goal in mind.  Get Sam out of this mess.

Fuuuck, he was pretty damn sure that Castiel went above and beyond, because there was heat emanating from a previously chilled hand, this insane _rush_ of something—maybe grace?—that swelled through him like a power surge, and that’s what made Sam cry out and grab his friend.  He came so hard, he needed something to hold onto, and he wanted to express to Castiel just how much it meant that it was him and not Lucifer, _shit_ , all he wanted to do in that second was kiss him—

And Cas...it looked like he was going to let him...Sam couldn't have imagined that.  Nor the lingering touch of Cas' rough fingers brushing the hair from Sam's brow and the fact he was actually leaning down towards him.  Sam couldn't help it, his eyes flickered between Cas' eyes—now alight with awe—and his lips.  Crap, this wasn't good but there was nothing he wanted more right then.    
  
In a moment of haste, in sheer relief, all Sam could do was _act_.  
  
He grabbed the back of Cas' neck and hauled them together, tasting his lips.  After a beat of uncertainty—Cas kissed him back.  Fuck, it made the nightmare slip away, just for that stolen moment, with the angel's mouth tenderly moving against his, Cas' palm cupping his cheek.  Sam could pretend everything else never happened.  Except, when he pulled away to breathlessly thank him, when a snap cleaned them up, as Sam was tucking himself back into his jeans—  
  
—a hand flew over Cas’ mouth with a mocking gasp.   _No_.  Not Cas.  Not any longer.

It was Lucifer.

“Why, Sammy!  What will your brother think about using _his angel_ to get off?!  Then reveling in the afterglow!  Castiel may as well have a ‘Property of Dean Winchester’ tattoo on his ass!  Scandalous!  That’ll make the tabloids!”  Lucifer fanned himself and sneered, “You are a vision when you cum.  I missed seeing that.  It was so open and pure when it was with Castiel.  Gotta ask—do you have a thing for him, too?  Nah, why ask?  The answer's _pretty_ obvious.  Why does everyone and their momhave a boner for this little seraph?”

“I don’t have a thing for him,” Sam snarled and stood up, side-stepping his way to the door (willing down his furious blush) while Lucifer continued to sit on the bed.  “Anything, _anyone_ is better than you.”  There was nothing but venom in his voice, because he couldn't deny that moment of vulnerability and he needed to cover it up with all the hatred in his heart.  What the hell had even happened back there—?

“Hate to break it to you,” Lucifer had gotten what he wanted so he remained still and simply shrugged his shoulders and grinned, “But I was the one who got you hard, kiddo.  Could’ve gotten you off, just as easy.  But I wanted to be nice.  I won a prize for my philanthropy!  Setting the stage for some future family drama.”  

Sam hated the way he wiggled his eyebrows because… _fuck_.  Lucifer was right.  This could cause trouble if any of this crap came out, it would be a shitshow.  Sam needed to leave, he had to get away from the Devil’s mind games.  He needed to clear his mind, go for a jog, anything to get this out of his head.  How did everything spiral out of control so quickly?

When Sam’s hand was wrapped around the door knob, Lucifer decided, “I guess I’ll talk with Daddy.  You, my little sacrifice, were so sweet.  You’ve certainly made my time here worthwhile.”

“Sacrifice,” Sam spat out the word and it tasted bitter on his tongue.  “Never intended that to happen.”

“You got what you wanted in the end, didn’t you?  The gang back together?” The archangel watched him, but Sam couldn’t be there any longer, he had to leave.

He felt dirty, no matter how angelically ‘cleaned up’ he was.  None of this was okay, he’d fucked up so bad, and it was all on him.  How had Sam not seen this coming?  Some sort of manipulation from Lucifer?  Using his friend against him?  A call-back to the Cage?  Maybe he was expecting a fight, something more cut-and-dry.  But, no, Sam had just gotten cut.    
  
Sam had a feeling Lucifer wouldn't stay silent, that he'd bask in the chaos and he'd take a few more down in his sinking ship…Sam knew if the Devil had it his way, Sam was just the beginning.  Lucifer had ammo because of that stunt, and meeting up with the group meant he had the opportunity to open fire.  He had a front row seat to whatever had happened between Sam and Cas, even though Cas and Dean were—fuck!  
  
After he slammed the door and walked down the hallway, his mind was racing, Sam had to figure out a way to make sure he was the beginning _and_ the end.


End file.
